Lovers
by seaunicorn
Summary: We're not friends. We're not enemies. We're not allies. I'm not sure what we are. I think the best word to describe us would be lovers.


The last hundred or so pages of Mockingjay had a serious lack of Johanna Mason...so I fixed that. This is a condensed alternate ending to the series. Thanks to my beta, serenityex on tumblr!

* * *

The music and dancing and happiness everywhere is overwhelming, but I still try to enjoy myself. It's hard.

I feel a pinch on my arm and whirl around to find Johanna.

"Are you going to miss the chance to let Snow see you dancing?" She smirks.

I don't say anything. She's right, of course, but I'm not going to tell her that. I turn around to find Prim, to take her to dance, but Johanna's hand catches my shoulder with a tight but gentle grip.

"I meant with me, brainless." And before I can protest, she grabs my hand and drags me out to the dance floor. I glance around; this is weird—me dancing with Johanna. No one pays us any attention, though. It's a damn wedding.

I let myself relax and before I know it, we're dancing and laughing together. This might be the closest we've come to acting like friends. When music slows down and I assume she's going to want to get off the dance floor.

She doesn't.

X

When Johanna fails her test, I know not being able to fight in the Capitol will eat her alive until there's nothing left of her but that morphling drip. I don't know what possesses me to, but I say, "If she doesn't go, neither do I!"

"You can't stay behind, we need the Mockingjay there."

"And I need her there!" I'm not sure who's more shocked at my words: Haymitch or myself.

"She's unstable," Haymitch says.

"I don't care. I'll watch out for her."

This gets me some questioning looks.

"Assign her to my team. She'll be my responsibility."

There's a moment of silence as they think about it. My request makes sense; I have been looking out for her since we moved in together, and they know it.

Haymitch sighs. "Fine. We'll let her retake the test. No water this time. And if she passes, I'll see what we can do."

She passes, obviously, with flying colors.

It is Johanna after all.

X

The night before we're due to leave, I come back to our room to give her a small bundle of pine needles that I collected for her. I want them to remind her of what we're fighting for while we're in the Capitol.

"Smells like home," she whispers and her eyes glisten. A single tear falls down her cheek and I reach over and wipe it away with my thumb. I let my hand linger for a moment on her soft skin. "Thank you," she says, and gives me a quick peck on the cheek.

We crawl into the same bed without thinking about it. She drapes an arm over me and I curl up next to her, the warmth of her body providing comfort.

"We have to kill him, you know. It has to be one of us."

I don't say anything, but I nod in understanding. She plays with my hair for a bit, and I close my eyes. Sleep takes us both, and for once it is without nightmares.

X

"Because I'm on a special mission for President Coin," I say. "I think Boggs was the only one who knew about it."

"To do what?" Jackson sneers.

"To assassinate President Snow before the loss of life from this war makes our population unsustainable."

I don't think anyone believes me, Johanna least of all. She can smell my bullshit from a mile away, but nonetheless, she backs me up. With Johanna on my side, no one disagrees. The last thing you want to do is disagree with Johanna.

X

We end up in the underground tunnels, by the sewers. They said it would be safer down here.

As much as I hate it, I know it's far worse for Johanna.

Every so often, there's a huge rush of water through the sewers. We're able to avoid it, thanks to Pollux, but just the sound of that rushing water makes her nervous, terrified.

The first time it happens, I feel her tense up beside me and freeze in her tracks. Unthinkingly, I grab her hand and squeeze. This seems to help. She relaxes, but her grip on my hand turns into a vice as she squeezes tight like I am her anchor. I don't mind, though, because it makes her feel better. It makes me feel a little better too.

It's not until after the water is far past us that she loosens her grip.

Her hand doesn't move from mine.

X

Boggs, Messalla, Jackson, Leeg One. We can't lose anyone else because of me. But when we climb up to the street, someone is missing. Screams come from below.

Johanna figures it out before I do. "FINNICK!" she cries. Gale shines his light in the shaft and we can see three mutts about to tear him apart. I can't look.

Johanna is about to jump in after him, but I know that if she does she won't come back. I wrap my arms around her and hold tight while she struggles to break free from my grip and screams his name.

I don't know how long I restrain her, but it feels like forever while she screams and kicks, trying to break free, and her eyes well up with tears that she refuses to let fall. Eventually she calms down due to only exhaustion.

She whispers his name one last time while I whisper soothing words into her ear.

My arms that held her tight loosen a little but still hold her close.

I cry. Johanna doesn't.

X

All that's left is me, Gale, and Johanna. I can't even find Peeta. The block is overrun with refugees, but they know we're here somewhere. We can't hide forever.

The next pod breaks with a resounding crack and splits the sidewalk open, consuming everything in its path. I run, trying to escape the clutches of the abyss. I almost don't make it. The ground gives out beneath me and I desperately fling out my hands to catch the edge of the sidewalk right before I fall. My feet dangle uselessly inside a pit of darkness that reeks of death. I don't have the strength to pull myself up. _It's all over_, I think.

Then, a pair of strong arms lift me onto the sidewalk. My head is spinning, but I know it's Johanna before I see her face.

The ground is flat but I still feel shaky and unstable, so I cling to her tightly for support like she is my rock. If she minds, she doesn't say anything.

I don't think she minds.

X

Red is everywhere. Blood, body parts, corpses, dying children.

When I see Prim, I know everything is going to be okay.

But then, the rest of the parachutes explode and fire consumes me. My only thought is of Prim. Saving her.

I know I won't survive if any more of that fire mutt touches me, but I don't care. I lunge forward.

It's Johanna's turn to hold me back. She throws her arms around me and the flames jump from my skin to hers. She screams in pain but doesn't let go.

She saves me and gets burned in the process.

X

My arrow finds itself in Coin's neck instead of Snow's heart.

In the moment it takes for me to realize what I've just done, Johanna steps in front of me and throws her axe. It sinks into Snow's skull with a dull thud and blood gushes from the wound.

I'm not sure if she's angry with me because I was supposed to kill Snow or satisfied because she wanted to kill him herself.

Perhaps she's a little bit of both.

X

Somehow I wind up in District 7. The forest reminds me of home, but it doesn't come with the same bitter loneliness that I suffered every day in 12.

And for some reason, I bring the damn cat.

The damn cat that runs off the moment I arrive, and as I chase him down the streets he leads me right to her front door.

Apparently Johanna is very good with cats.

X

Neither of us have been coping very well. I'm a mess and she's on morphling again.

We find solace in each other.

First, simply in each other's company; we don't talk much, but it's easier than being alone.

Then in each other's arms; we started off in separate rooms which slowly progressed to sharing a bed. It's easier to sleep when I can hear her steady breathing and feel her warm body next to mine.

Sometimes she wakes up screaming and I rub her back and whisper soothing words in her ear until she falls asleep again.

Sometimes I wake up crying and she kisses away the tears.

X

Eventually she gets off the morphling. I take every word of her abuse because I know it will be worth it once she's no longer suffering from withdrawal.

The moment she's sober she cries and apologizes and it's my turn to kiss away her tears.

X

We're not friends. We're not enemies. We're not allies. I'm not sure what we are.

I think the best word to describe us would be lovers.

When I first tell her this, she laughs. But that night, our clothes find themselves on the floor and our skin shines with sweat and our limbs are tangled together under the covers. I try to catch my breath and she presses her lips softly to my neck. It's not the first time this has happened. Not even close.

She kisses her way up my neck and across my jaw to whisper in my ear, "You know, brainless, I think you may have been right."

Our lips find each others' again and I don't care what we are anymore.


End file.
